Posted in Writing Stuff

Writing prompt – Rock bottom

Prompt: (tumblr) “so this is it? Have we finally arrived at rock bottom?”
“No, there’s still some places to go.”

Word Count: 2023

 

One of the major drawbacks to immortality is that you can’t die. Yeah, I know, the word “duh” springs to mind but hear me out. There’s obviously the whole “watching everyone you love around you wither and die” thing and the ever-so-slightly-terrifying knowledge that one day the universe will reach its finite and conclusive end and I’m not too sure what’s going to happen to me after that point; I have visions of me floating in an endless void of nothingness with not even the stars to see as by that point, they’ll have all ceased to exist as well.

I’ll still probably have Fluff though. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

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Writing Prompt – Oh La La

Prompt: (iPod on shuffle) Oh La La – Small Faces
Word count: 567

Train journeys are great, aren’t they? They’re a brilliant time to reflect on things as you head into the unknown and the new, or as you crawl back home, battered and destroyed from life.

We go home to repair. It’s always described as a relief to get home.

So, I reflect. Or rather I plug in my headphones, curl up on the empty seat next to me and using my rucksack as a pillow, I try to sleep. I try to block out the feelings of failure, the thoughts of rejection. I look up at the yellow overhead lights, the grey seats, the darkened windows with the occasional light from outside flashing past. We’re passing through the countryside – I’ll know soon enough when we get close to the city because that’s when the lights get brighter, more frequent. Some might say ‘more intrusive’ but not me. I can’t sleep if it’s too peaceful. I need the roar of a distant motorway and streetlights streaming in through my window to sooth me to sleep. She always hated that.
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2am chills.

Sometimes, the scariest things are the simplest. When I’m up late and finally decide to go to bed, I will turn all the lights off downstairs and head upstairs. As I’m walking to my room, I’ll glance out the window that opens out onto the front of the house and see that the motion-activated light has come on. It could be a fox, it could just be leaves in the wind – but what’s that sound? Is it just the dull sounds of my own body amplified in my skull? Or is it – muffled through the windows – is that the gravel on the driveway crunching under footsteps heading around the side of the house?
And suddenly I’ll wonder — did I check if the back door was actually locked?

Posted in Writing Stuff

3 years later…

So, I went to go set up a new blog today… only to discover this one still existed. Rather than delete and purge, I figured I’d just pick up from where I left off.

I don’t think I’m going to go into what I’ve been up to for the last 3 years. That’s no fun and to be honest, I think the only person who actually cares what I’ve been doing is me. So. A new start.

Well. Ish.

Ready. Set. Go.